


She calls me Daddy

by sansaswildlinglover



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All three of them are completely fucked up in this story, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dark Jon Snow, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, I have no regrets, Past Sexual Abuse, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism, but basically this is just all three of them in the same room, sometimes I just need to write something really dark okay, well obviously there IS plot, with Jon giving/receiving oral/fucking one of them with the other woman watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-14 03:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaswildlinglover/pseuds/sansaswildlinglover
Summary: Sansa doesn’t like it when he kisses her too much. She doesn't enjoy the feeling of his hands exploring her body or the place between her legs. She doesn't want him to go down on her. She doesn't really desire any of those things. Not yet anyway.But she wants his cock, and she likes touching him. She's always touching him.She'll let him hold her, but never when he's inside of her.It's a shame, because Jon loves all of those things, and he's been told he's good with his mouth and his hands.He doesn’t love her any less for it. He could never not love Sansa more than anything else in the world.He only hates the man who made her like this even more.***"Why are you doing this?""You know why, Cat," he tells her, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment when he hits the back of Sansa's throat. "You couldn't find it in yourself to love a motherless child. You told my precious little girl she could trust Uncle Petyr."





	She calls me Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, if you have come this far, I hope you've read all the tags.
> 
> Everything that happens in Cat's room is completely consensual.
> 
> There are two flashbacks, both of them written in italics.
> 
> One is of Jon and Sansa, and the way she asks him to have sex with her might read as mildly dubious consent. It starts with "Sansa had moved into Jon's apartment after returning from the Vale".
> 
> The second flashback is a drunk Cat kissing Jon without his consent. Jon is 20 years old in this flashback, so he's a legal adult, but Cat's actions are still questionable. If you want to avoid it, it starts with '"Ned," she sighed, draping her arms around his neck."
> 
> I think I tagged/warned for everything, but let me know if there's anything else you'd like me to add.
> 
> I kept the hints at Sansa's past subtle and everything is told from Jon's POV.

The hallway is chilly as Jon waits for Sansa just outside the door. He can feel the hairs on his arms rising in goosebumps. He takes another deep breath, and then he hears footsteps. She's coming up the stairs, only wearing a pair of fluffy white slippers, and he licks his lips at the sight of her.

Her nipples are puckered from the cold air, and her full tear drop shaped breasts jiggle with every step. Her waist is narrow and her hips are round. The patch of red curls at the juncture of her thighs is brighter than the hair on her head. He's seen her before of course, but she hates the feeling of having a man's eyes on her, so he's had to satisfy himself with quick glances.

He wants to look at her, drink in her luscious curves and long legs and soft skin, but the last thing he wishes to do is make her uncomfortable. He wants to undress her slowly, touching ever inch of her, revealing her naked beauty to his eyes and hands, but he won't, not until she's ready.

 

_Sansa had moved into Jon's apartment after returning from the Vale. She'd begged him to let her stay for a couple of weeks, had silently urged him not to ask any questions._

_She spent her first couple of days there sitting on his couch, watching bad soap operas and teleshopping shows. She'd take too many painkillers for a headache she claimed wouldn't go away. She only ate chocolate and ice cream, leaving the wrappers and empty bowls everywhere._

_He lost his temper, scolded her and demanded her to tell him what was wrong with her, but she only smiled at him, a hollow smile, and told him she was just a little tired._

_The next day he woke up to finding her having already made him breakfast and busy doing laundry._

_"What are you doing?" he wondered aloud._

_"I'm making myself useful," she answered, too brightly. "Isn't that what you wanted?"_

_He didn't know what to say to that, so he just accepted the food and pretended not to watch her as she moved around cleaning and tidying._

_She still spent her evenings on his couch, curling up against him and touching him, always touching him, her hands roaming over his body. He pretended not to notice, because he couldn't figure out why she was doing it._

_One night, she put her hand on his thigh, fingers gliding to his crotch. "Do you still want me, Jon?" she asked him._

_"You're my sister," he objected._

_"Only half," she pointed out. "And that never bothered you when we were younger."_

_It was true, but he'd been hoping she would have forgotten about that. She was his half-sister, but he'd already been fourteen when his mother died and he'd moved into the Stark house._

_It had taken him only a couple of weeks to develop a crush on Sansa. It must have been two or three years later when she caught him stealing a pair of her panties._

_"Do you want to touch me, Jon?" she'd asked him._

_They'd kissed and fumbled. He had cupped and squeezed her breasts, and she'd guided his hand under her skirt and let him glide his fingers under the elastic of her panties, exploring her wet heat._

_She had slipped her own hand into his sweatpants and boxers, stroking him until he came embarassingly quickly. He could still remember the slightly surprised, but delighted look on her face._

_During the next two weeks, it had only taken a couple more tries before he managed to make her peak as well._

_They'd carried on like that for a couple of months, exchanging tentative looks and sharing stolen moments, until she'd started dating that prick Joffrey Baratheon._

_He pulled her into his lap, letting his hands roam over her curves. When he tried to kiss her, she covered his mouth with her hand and shook her head._

_She removed her top for him and he kissed her neck instead and then her breasts. He slipped his hand between their bodies, cupping her sex, but she stopped him again._

_"Do you prefer my mouth?" he asked her._

_She shook her head. "I just want you to fuck me." She moved off his lap and lay back on the couch, pulling him along, her hands reaching for the zipper of his jeans._

_She freed him and shoved her leggings down, opening her legs so he could settle between them. She stroked him into hardness and lifted her hips, thrusting them up_ _until the head of his cock slipped between her folds._

_"Please," she begged him and he pushed into her, letting her wet heat engulf him._

_She threw her head back and moaned, but when she looked at him there were tears in her eyes._

_"Please," she whispered again, her voice thick._

_He started thrusting as if his life depended on it, fucking her into the couch. She cried out when she peaked, her cunt clenching so deliciously around him he quickly followed her over the edge._

_He collapsed on top of her and only pushed himself up when he felt her sobbing._

_"Did I hurt you?" he asked, panic taking hold of him._

_She smiled up at him. "No, you didn't. Thank you."_

 

 

She glances up at him, and he keeps his gaze on her face. It's easy, because it's lovely enough to keep his attention, and he's looking for signs, even if he's not sure what kind of signs, or what they're supposed to betray. Her blue eyes are wide and trusting, and they make it so hard to believe she's hiding so much pain behind that sweet smile, he almost has to remind himself that's why they're here.

She closes the distance between them and crosses her arms over her chest, hugging herself, but she leans into his open arms, nuzzling her face into his neck. He rubs her back, keeping his hands high, and twists his head to kiss her temple, letting his lips linger there.

"Are you sure you want this?" he murmurs into her skin.

"I  _need_ this," she reminds him, and the distinction doesn't escape him. He'll help her, he swears, he'll teach her to allow herself to want again, unapologetically, and to take what she wants. He'd let her take all of him, and crush him under her dainty heel, but he's still too angry for that, and it's not what she needs, so today, they'll do this instead.

This is about her, but he won't deny that they're also doing this to satisfy some of his own selfish desires. And even the woman inside that bedroom is going to get what she wants, in a way. 

They all have their reasons to be here today, and Jon thinks he understands most of them. He knows they're all different but equally disturbing measures of fucked up, but at one point he's stopped caring about that, so he releases her and turns around to open the door.

Cat is already on the bed, naked and waiting for him, and her eagerness thrills him. He lets his eyes roam over her body. She's still extremely attractive for her age, and the fact that she wants him helps, of course.

She flinches when she sees Sansa. 

"You knew, Cat," he tells her, mostly to let her know he didn't miss her reaction. If she had her way, she'd take him all for herself, but he won't give her that much.

She can have him, but never all of him, he only belongs to Sansa. He twines their fingers together and brings her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She offers him an encouraging smile and she walks to the other end of the bed. He only lets go of her hand when she's too far away to hold on. She sits down in her mother's rocking chair and wraps a blanket around her shoulders.

Jon pulls off his shirt and unbuckles his belt, slowly undressing as both women watch him, their eyes devouring him. Cat's gaze makes him feel powerful, Sansa's makes him feel desired.

Cat holds out her arms for him, inviting him to come closer. "Ned," she sighs.

 

_"Ned," she sighed, draping her arms around his neck._

_Jon couldn't move. He was frozen in shock. This was not what he'd been expecting when Cat had asked him to come down to talk to her in the living room._

_He'd been sure that this was it, that she was about to kick him out of the house. She'd spent the last couple of months in bed, sleeping or drinking, and Jon had been grateful for that._

_It's not that he didn't pity her— he shares her grief, Ned was her husband but also his father, after all. He'd just been hoping that for as long as she didn't leave her bedroom, she wouldn't tell him to get out of her house. With his father gone, she had no reason to tolerate his presence there any longer._

_She was dressed when he'd entered the living room. She'd curled her hair and had even put on a little make-up. It scared him, it confirmed his fear that she was about to tell him to leave._

_Instead she'd smiled at him, and he had hardly noticed her coming closer, hadn't noticed she'd been drinking again, until she was embracing him, and it was too late._

_She kissed him then, and he let her. Perhaps she would have done even more if he'd allowed her to, but he pushed her away and ran._

_They never talked about it, and he moved out of the house a couple of months later after all._

 

 

He shakes his head. "No, Cat. Not Ned. You know this." He finds a sick pleasure in reminding her of that. He's not Ned, even if he looks enough like his father to fool even her for a couple of moments. He knows it must be why she wants him, but it's still him she wants.

She likes to pretend it's not him, but he's not planning on doing her any favours today. He's already giving her enough. He climbs up on the bed, kneeling by her side.

Her eyes narrow. " _You,_ " she spits out, and she manages to imbue that one little word with so much venom, that for a moment he can feel the anger bubbling up, the rage that has to conceal how small and worthless she can still make him feel.

He leans in, giving her a patient smile as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. "Yes, me. You'd do well to remember that." He keeps stroking her face. "Have you been waiting for me, little Cat? Have you been thinking about me?" he asks her softly.

He covers her lips with his own, kissing her while he braces his hand on her collarbone, holding her down to keep her from touching him. He lets his other hand slip down to the wetness between her legs.

"So you have? Have you touched yourself thinking about me?"

"Yes," she whispers, arching her neck to chase his lips when he pulls them away.

"Bad girl," he tells her, lightly slapping her across the face with the back of his hand.

Her breasts are heavy in his hands when he cups them, and he lets her nipples brush against his palms until they're hard. He pinches them then, making her moan and arch into his touch.

He moves back and pulls on her ankles to turn her around so he's facing Sansa as he settles between her legs.

He pulls one foot up and places it on his shoulder, then the other, and kisses the inside of her ankle.

The muscles in her legs are tense, her back is stiff and she's trying to arch into him, thrusting her hips up.

"You're a filthy little slut, aren't you?" he asks her. "What do you want, Cat? Don't lie to me."

"You," she whispers on a shuddering breath. 

"Me?" he chuckles. 

"Don't tease her," Sansa tells him with a sigh.

"Daddy knows best, Sansa," he answers. "Be a good girl and let me get on with this."

He looks down at Cat. "Which part of me do you want? My mouth, my hands, my cock?" He already knows her answer.

"All of them," she says, licking her lips.  "I want all of you."

He barks out a laugh. "You greedy bitch!"

He hauls Cat's knees over his shoulders, lifting her hips to his mouth so he can keep his eyes on Sansa.

He turns his head so his lips aren on the inside of Cat's thigh when he murmurs: "You can have my mouth today,  little Cat. I'll even allow you to peak once."

He trails his lips closer to where she wants him.

"Yes," she pants. "Yes, thank you!"

He pulls his mouth away from her and arches an eyebrow.

She glares at him. "Thank you,  _Jon._ "

He makes sure she sees his satisfied grin before he leans in and licks up her slit. The taste of her arousal is strong on his tongue, and she shivers as he strokes through her folds.

When he glances down at her, her chest is heaving, and he can see the strain of muscle in her arms where they're braced on the bed to keep her hips up.  

Her eyes are closed and her lips puckered and slightly parted. She looks softer like this, more like Sansa, and it's almost enough for him.

This is what real power feels like, Jon thinks as she surrenders to him, to have another person completely at his mercy. The exhiliration that comes with it is making him hard.

He can't stop his eyes from travelling up again, meeting Sansa's darkened gaze. She licks her lips as she watches him, and he can feel heat coiling in his groin, so deliciously tense he bucks his hips.

He closes his eyes, imagines it's her looking up at him, eyes hooded and lips parted, face and chest flushed from his attentions. All of it has him aching for her, and he's almost desperate for some friction.

"Ned," Cat moans, making his eyes fly open, disrupting his little fantasy.

"Jon," he reminds her again, groaning his name into her sensitive flesh. "I am Jon." 

He pauses to take a breath and glance up at Sansa, before spelling out his full name on Cat's clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Don't fool yourself, little Cat. You belong to me now, say it!"

There's a moment of stubborn silence, but then she says: "I belong to you."

"Yes, you do. What are you?"

There's that glare again, and it's making him even harder than he already was.

"I'm Jon Snow's slut," she forces out through gritted teeth.

He latches onto her clit, sucking it hard, and his fingers dig into her hips, pulling them closer to his face. 

Her knuckles turn white where she's fisting her hands into the covers on her bed and she cries out, throwing her head back as she falls apart against his tongue. 

He lowers her onto the bed and she rolls onto her side, pulling her knees up as her thighs clamp shut, panting with her eyes squeezed shut. 

He wipes his mouth on the sheets and he rises from the bed. 

"She likes it when you do that," Sansa points out as she pushes herself to her feet, dropping her blanket. She closes the distance between them, and he lifts his hands to rub her shoulders.

"I like watching you do it," she adds, reaching down to wrap her hand around his hard shaft, swiping her thumb across the leaking head of his cock. "I think you enjoyed it, too."

His grip on her shoulders tightens and his breath escapes in a sharp hiss. "Sansa," he warns her. "I haven't given you permission to touch me."

She pulls back her hand, and for a moment he regrets reprimanding her, but he knows it will be better like this. 

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispers, glancing up at him from underneath fluttering eyelashes. 

"I know you are," he tells her, cupping her cheek. "You're a good girl. And you're right, Daddy enjoyed it. But I'd enjoy it even more if it was your pretty little cunt I'd get to feast on."

"Yes, Daddy," she answers with a smile, but he doesn't miss how her face falls for just a fraction of a second, how her lips turn slightly downward before they curl up.

His rage returns, it's there in the tightness in his chest that coils hotly in the pit of his stomach, in the pulse he can feel at his temples, in the bitter bile rising to his throat.

If only he could bring back the monster who almost destroyed his sister, only so he could kill him again, make it last longer this time, make him suffer even more.

"Come here, sweet girl." He wraps his arms around her, and perhaps it's because he needs the comfort of her touch more than she needs his.

"Daddy loves you," he tells her nonetheless. It's what she needs to hear. They both understand what he's telling her, that it's even more about the words he's leaving unsaid than the ones he speaks.

"Daddy will always love you, no matter what," he adds, and his voice is almost as fragile as she is.

She leans into his touch, clinging to him, and he breathes her in, making the moment last, until he's found his composure again.

"Get on your knees for me now, sweetheart," he tells her, and his tone is firm again.

"Yes, Daddy," she answers in a breathy whisper, eagerly obeying him. "What do you want me to do, Daddy?" she asks, glancing up at him with big, innocent eyes.

"I want you to suck my cock, sweet girl."

She wastes no time, bracing one hand on his thigh and licking up the underside of his shaft. Her tongue is warm and wet, and her fingers tickle the inside of his thighs as she trails them up to caress his balls.

"Not that," he reprimands her. He wouldn't last longer than two minutes if he allowed her to do that. "Just your mouth." 

"Yes, Daddy," she sighs and then closes her lips over his length, engulfing him in its slick heat. Her tongue swirls around the head, and then she starts sucking, lightly bobbing her head up and down.

His hands fly into her hair, massaging her scalp, and his thumbs rub circles into her temples. 

"Eyes on me, baby girl," he reminds her. "Eyes on me."

She glances up to hold his gaze and hums in confirmation.

"Do that again."

She does, and then she sucks him harder. How he wishes he could lose control, surrender to her and show her how she makes him fall apart so completely. But he can't, she needs him to be in charge. 

"Yes, like that" he praises her. "Such a sweet, clever mouth, sweetheart"

She moans around his cock at the compliment and the thrill of the vibrations makes him groan.

"Why are you doing this?" the woman on the bed demands to know, her voice shrill.

"You know why, Cat," he tells her, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment when he hits the back of Sansa's throat. "You couldn't find it in yourself to love a motherless child. You told my precious little girl she could trust Uncle Petyr."

It's the simple truth, nothing but the truth, even if deep down it's more complicated than that, but he'll settle for simple. It's more than enough.

She doesn't believe him. She can't bring herself to see it's all her fault. She just goes on hating him, despising him, because it's easier that way. He can understand that, can even find it in himself to feel sympathy for her.

After all, he's not without blame. He should have been there, he should have fought harder. It's a rare moment when he can admit that to himself— it's easier to be angry— and he'll never say it out loud, even though he suspects Sansa knows.

This isn't the first time he's he wondered if part of her hates him for it, and suddenly he can't bear to see her looking up at him like this.

He could close his eyes, but that won't do.

"Come up here, " he tells her, offering her a hand to help her up. She looks at him expectantly, lightly keeping her fingers between his.

"Turn around and bend over the dresser," he tells her.

She's quick and eager to follow his command. She throws a glance over her shoulder, biting her lip, and thrusts her ass back invitingly. It takes all of his self-control not to pounce on her.

"Be a good girl now, Sansa," he tells her instead. "Daddy doesn't have time to spank you right now." Part of him hopes she'll defy him, because if she does, at least he'll be able to get his hands on her, even if it's not the way he really wants to.

She bats her eyelashes at him and turns around, holding perfectly still. It's probably for the best, he's dying to get inside of her.

He walks up to her, trailing his eyes up her legs to take in the glistening pink lips between her thighs. One day he'll have her bend over like this and kneel behind her to eat her out, and he'll make her peak until her legs give out. But not today.

"Are you ready to take Daddy's cock, sweet girl?" His voice sounds low and rough to his own ears. "Are you wet enough for me? "

"Yes, Daddy," she keens.

"Can I check?" he asks her softly.

She nods. 

He slips one finger between her folds, almost gliding inside her. He groans. She's sopping wet for him. He removes his finger and turns to look at Cat as he sucks his finger clean, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of Sansa.

Her rage is visible on her face, and he offers her a satisfied smile, before turning back to Sansa.

"Did you get this wet sucking my cock, baby girl?" he asks her.

"Yes, Daddy. I love your cock."

It's hard not to show how much those words affect him. He swallows the whine that almost escapes from his throat, resists the urge to pull her up and devour every inch of her, and takes a deep breath. 

"Yeah, I think you do," he says with a calm confidence he doesn't feel.

He takes his cock in hand to guide it inside of her and slowly pushes all the way in.

He takes a moment to revel in the feel of her around him, resisting the urge for friction. He pulls out slowly and stretches her open again, enjoying the sensation of her sweet hot cunt welcoming him. She's so wet for him, and she fits him so perfectly.

"You feel so good," he tells her as he starts moving. "Your cunt feels like heaven."

She arches her back for him, eagerly pushing her hips back to take in more of him.

"You need to be patient, Sansa. Good girls are always gracious and patient."

"Yes, Daddy," she moans as he begins thrusting in earnest, his hands settling on her hips.

He fucks her, listening to the sounds she's making, and lets his eyes feast on her backside, the curve of her hips and waist, and her long red hair swaying along. His gaze drops to the spot where they're joined, and he releases a groan at the sight.

He grabs her hips more tightly and drives into her with more force, and the dresser rattles with every thrust.

A long deep moan escapes from her throat and she whimpers: "Fuck!"

"Hear that, Cat?" he asks her mother. "Did you hear how much she loves my cock?"

He grunts as Sansa's cunt starts squeezing him.

"Does that bother you, Cat?" He knows it does. She hates it. "How does it make you feel that your good little girl is so desperate for her half-brother's cock?"

Sansa whimpers again, as if to confirm his words.

He twists his neck to face Cat. "Do you wish it were you I was fucking? I bet you do."

Her face is contorted with rage, lust and jealousy. He loves it.

"Go on then," he tells her. "Touch yourself, I know you want to. Touch yourself and imagine it's you your husband's bastard is fucking, and not your daughter."

He looks down at Sansa again. He doesn't need to see it. Knowing is enough.

"Daddy loves your cunt, Sansa. You're so hot and tight, so wet for me, so delicious."

Her walls keep tightening around him, and he can feel her body tensing up.

"That's it, sweet girl. Cum for Daddy. Cum on my cock."

She clenches and flutters around him, and she cries out.

He has to focus on a mark on the far wall to stop himself from spilling inside of her. He wishes he could turn her around, fuck her hard and slow, see her breasts shake with every thrust. Picturing it is driving him closer to the edge, and has him biting his lips until he can taste the metallic tang of blood.

When she stops pulsing around him, he pulls out. "You've been such a good girl, Sansa. Where would you like Daddy to cum? In your cunt, or in your mouth?"

She twists her neck, and he can see her biting her lip as well. "On my tits, please, Daddy," she begs him.

"On your tits?" he asks, his aching cock twitching. "That's filthy, baby girl."

She lowers her eyes. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm a filthy girl."

"Yes, you are, but it's okay," he reassures her. "Daddy loves you. Tell me you want this."

"I want you to cum on my tits, Daddy," she tells him with pleading eyes.

"Then I'll cum on your tits, sweet girl."

He steps back and waits for her to rise. "On your knees again then," he orders her.

She kneels in front of him and smiles up at him with eager eyes.

"I'm going to need you to suck me off again if you want me to cum, sweet girl."

"Yes, Daddy," she answers, quickly taking him into her mouth.

"Look at you," he croons, and  _fuck_ she's such a lovely sight gazing up at him with those big blue eyes, her plump pink lips wrapped around his cock. "You're so good at this, baby girl, your mouth is divine."

It doesn't last long before he can feel his balls tightening up. "Suck me clean, sweetheart, suck your pleasure off my cock."

His hand finds her hair again, desperately reaching for something to hold onto, and it's getting hard to force the words out.

"That's it," he pants. "You're such a good girl. Daddy's good girl. I'm going to cum on your tits."

She pulls away from him and he wraps his free hand around his shaft, stepping back as he strokes hard and fast, squeezing the tip of his cock as he pumps himself.

He slows down, forces his eyes to stay open and focus on her beautiful face and gorgeous rose-tipped breasts, speeding up again, and then the coil at the base of his spine snaps.

His orgasm crashes through his body, and waves of pleasure shower Sansa with spurts of hot sticky cum, most of it landing on her tits, but some of it ends up on her face and neck.

"Can I taste it, Daddy?" she whispers, unmanning him again. All he can manage to give her is a weak nod.

She uses one finger to wipe a bit of cum from her chin and pops it into her mouth, sucking it slowly and moaning appreciatively. He's sure he'd peak again if it was physically possible.

When his legs stop shaking, he walks over to the nightstand to get some tissues, ignoring the glare he can feel burning into him. Sansa needs his attention now. He returns to her to clean her up, gently wiping away the mess he's made.

He retrieves his clothes and puts them back on. He tucks Cat in, even granting her a kiss on the cheek, but quickly walks over to the chair to pick up Sansa's blanket.

He wraps it around her shoulders and pulls her close, kissing her temple. They'll return to his room now, and he'll help her into a shirt and pair of sweatpants, so he can lie down with her in his arms.

He's hoping she won't cry tonight, that she'll fall asleep peacefully, and that her sleep won't be disrupted by nightmares. 

He'll try to stay awake to watch over her, but he already knows that will be difficult, lying under the covers with her soft warm body close, and the smell of her hair in his nose.

But he'll try, for her. He'll never stop trying.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling really tired, angry and stressed out over some real life stuff a couple of days ago and that's why I decided to write this. Writing Dark Jon is my personal form of therapy :')
> 
> That's partly why I chose to write all of this from Jon's POV, but I was also not really in the right state of mind to explore Sansa or Cat's POV in this universe, because that way darkness lies. 
> 
> I understand if this is not your cup of tea, but please be nice about leaving comments :)


End file.
